Last Chance
by Forlay
Summary: Yet another continuation of 54. Rachel is given one last chance to live, but it means accepting an offer from the one she hates most. Will she do it?


CrayakRachel _Author's Notes: I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of these going around for awhile, but you all know how it is: when inspiration hits, you have to write it. So that's why I've been working on this story since 10:00 last night (as I write this, it's 5:13 in the morning on May 27). I didn't think I'd actually get it done, but I knew if I left it then it would *never* get written because some other up-and-coming writer would come up with the same or similar idea. So, here's my contribution to the continuation of 54 and bringing Rachel back for one last good fight._

*** 

Last Chance   
By: Forlay 

I wondered if -   
RACHEL.   
"Crayak," I said flatly. I didn't feel anything at all at the moment. I was still trying to understand all that the Ellimist had told me. I'd understood for a moment that lasted eternity, but that moment was over. Now I was dealing, hopefully for the last time, with Crayak. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying 'rest in peace'?"   
Crayak appeared before me, a monstrous eye connected to machines I couldn't begin to describe. "Even in death you have a sharp wit. That is one of many reasons I've always admired you, Rachel."   
"You've never admired me, so don't even try and give me that bull. I'm dead, I can't do anything for you now. The war is over, you've lost."   
"You don't know that, do you? What is the saying you were so enamored with so long ago? A butterfly may flap its wings in Japan and a tornado forms in America?"   
I didn't bother correcting him. "What does that have to do with anything?"   
"The war could still go either way. Perhaps your death was in vain."   
"No. I was brave. I was strong. I was good. I _mattered_."   
"In the long run, perhaps, but did your death aid in this battle? Did you stop the Yeerks by sacrificing yourself?"   
I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I didn't know.   
"No, you don't know." Was he reading my thoughts? Or was it a good guess?   
"Why are you here?"   
"It's the Rules of the game. The Ellimist was given the opportunity to 'honor' you, I am allowed the same opportunity."   
"Why? You can't do anything to me. I can't do anything for you."   
"That's where you're wrong, Rachel. The Ellimist couldn't save you, but perhaps I can."   
"What about the rules?"   
"Yes, the Rules. There are loopholes to every Rule."   
"And what have you found in this one?"   
"A chance to go back. A chance to live your life as you once did."   
"But?"   
"But as a different person. Take on a new life and eventually be called upon to serve me."   
"In what way?"   
"Even I cannot tell you that, the future is always changing, after all. But will you agree, Rachel?"   
Drode suddenly appeared next to me. "Yes, Rachel. Will you agree?"   
"Go away," I said to Drode. And miraculously, he did. "What?"   
"A tiny sampling of what you will be able to do. The power to rid yourself of annoying creatures like Drode with a thought. Not permanently, of course," Drode appeared next to the machine that was Crayak, "but momentarily."   
Could I? Should I? "Crayak -" 

***

I found myself in a stylish apartment. Sparsely decorated, but what was there was very chic.   
Instinctively I knew who I was. My name was Jeanne Gerard. I was a member of the Deuxieme Bureau, kind of a French version of the CIA. This was my apartment, in Paris, where I lived alone.   
"I always wanted to visit Paris," I said to myself. I looked down at myself and made a face. I lived in Paris, but obviously didn't enjoy the fashions it was famous for. I was dressed in faded baggy jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt. I went to the mirror that hung over the phone and made a face again. My hair was mousy brown, cropped short and clung to my head oddly. I had plain brown eyes and plain features that weren't enhanced slightly by makeup. I wondered if I was allowed to update this girl's appearance . . . .   
RING!   
I jumped, I had practically been leaning on top of the phone, so the shrill ring and vibration under me had startled me. "Hello?" I asked. My voice had a heavy French accent. Then I realized that if I was a native of France, perhaps I should have been speaking in French. I'd never gotten higher than a 'C' on any of my tests in that class.   
"Good to hear you're practicing your English, Jeanne," the man's voice on the other said in perfect English. "Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, I had to get the details finalized."   
I searched my/Jeanne's memory quickly. The man was Robert, an American who was working with the Bureau. He was looking for agents to be part of a training class in California, training members of anti terrorist organizations how to use the morphing power. Ironic, huh?   
"And what are the finalized details?"   
"Your flight leaves tonight at eight. You'll be flown to Santa Barbara Municipal, where a United States military jeep will meet you, take you to a private military base, and fly you to the school. I'll be by to pick you up at 6:30. Alright?"   
"Fine," I said. "I shall see you then." I hung up the phone and sighed. According to the clock on the wall, it was 5:30. I had an hour before Robert would be by to pick me up, during that time I needed to shower and pack.   
"You wait 16 years to get to Paris, you finally end up there God only knows when, and you get to stay an hour. My life is absolutely wonderful." As I found the bathroom, I began sorting through some of Jeanne's memories. As I read through them, I wondered if they were fabricated by Crayak, or had he taken someone else's life, their soul, I guess, so i would have a body to live in.   
That thought was too disturbing. I didn't focus on it long.   
Whatever the circumstances were surrounding Jeanne's memories, they weren't happy ones. Jeanne was the only child of two only children. Her parents had died as controllers three years before, when Jeanne was 23.   
"That was near the end . . . Crayak sent me ahead three years," I said as I dried my hair after my shower. So that meant I was a 26 year old orphan, I'd had controller parents and yet, miraculously, I'd never been a controller.   
Next I pulled a suitcase out of the hall closet and laid it on the bed in my room. I went to my closet and smiled after I opened it. My first assessment of Jeanne's attire had been too harsh, the woman did have a taste for style. She had a few fine evening gowns and lots of professional looking suits, along with some designer casual attire. I went to the dresser and found clothes similar to what I had been wearing when I first found myself in Jeanne's body. T-shirts and jeans, along with various under garments. I picked out a few pairs of jeans, two T-shirts and several other personal items that I would need. Then I went back to the closet and pulled out some of the suits and casual outfits and gently folded them into the suitcase. The evening gowns would have to be left for another day, when I returned to Paris.   
On top of the dresser was a make up kit. I opened that I quickly applied some light make up. See, the trick to wearing make up is to make it look like you aren't wearing any at all. So I just added a light blush to my cheeks, mascara to lengthen my eye lashes and light blue eye shadow to my eye lids to give them some definition. After adding simple silver hoop earrings and a delicate silver necklace around my throat, I approved of how I looked. Now that I looked closer at Jeanne's memories, I saw this was how she looked most of the time, so none of her co-workers would notice a sudden change in her appearance. If she had even existed before the moment I appeared in the living room.   
I changed from the jeans and T-shirt into a pair of black slacks and a blue silk blouse. After I slipped into a pair of blue pumps I looked at myself one more time in the mirror and nodded in approval. This new body would take some getting used to, but I had spent the better part of three years 'getting used to' various animal forms. A new human body would be nothing compared to that. I picked up my suitcase and lugged it to the living room just in time to hear the knock at the door.   
"Just a minute!" I called. I set down the suitcase with a muffled thud on the carpet then answered the door. A tall, muscular man with blue eyes and sandy blond hair was there waiting for me. I recognized him, it was Robert.   
"Ready to go, Jeanne?" he asked. Subconsciously I noted that he was one of the few Americans Jeanne had met that could pronounce her name properly.   
I smiled. "Definitely. I just finished packing." I pointed back to the suitcase in the middle of the living room.   
"Let me get that for you." Robert brushed passed me into the living room and picked up the suitcase. He made a show of trying to lift the case. "You realize your class is only for two weeks, right?"   
"A girl must be prepared, no?" God, I sounded like I was right out of a movie! Honestly, did _real_ French people add a 'no' to the end of all their questions?   
"You always seem to be," Robert said with a smile. I remembered that Jeanne had been on many business trips to the United States since the end of the war. No wonder he'd chosen her to be part of this training program. "C'mon, my car's down front." 

***

Robert didn't accompany me to California, he said he still had business to finish in Paris. He stayed with me until my flight was boarding, handed me my boarding pass and gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd.   
The flight was smooth and uneventful. Maybe I was just lucky, or travel had really improved during the three years I'd   
been . . . gone. I actually slept through most of the flight, since none of the movies interested me. The meals were pretty bland, too. Jeanne was a vegetarian, which wasn't a problem for me. I'd tried to go vegetarian once, though I hadn't succeeded. The only problem I had was the airline's vegetarian food wasn't any better than the regular food. I just ate the peanuts and crackers they offered and ignored the limp salad and runny apple sauce.   
I woke up when I heard the announcement that we would be landing in Santa Barbara in ten minutes. I stretched slightly so I wouldn't disturb the person next to me and waited somewhat impatiently for the plane to land. I'd spent years flying on my own two wings, flying on a plane was boring after that.   
There was a man in army fatigues waiting for me when I deplaned.   
"Jeanne Gerard?" he asked sharply.   
"Yes."   
"Follow me please, ma'am." He took off at a brisk pace, I nearly had to jog to keep up with him.   
The man didn't even bother to pause as we passed the baggage carousels. "What about my luggage?"   
"Someone else will be retrieving that, ma'am. I have strict orders to deliver you directly to the general." We walked the rest of the way, a seemingly endless and roundabout path to the back of the airport, in silence.   
"General Sullivan, Jeanne Gerard," my guide introduced sharply when we finally made it to the army jeep.   
"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Gerard," the general said without any emotion.   
"Likewise," I said dryly.   
"If you will please step into the jeep, we will take you to the base." I did as I was told, slipping into the front passenger seat. My guide sat behind me, another soldier was next to him, and the general took his place behind the wheel.   
Most of the trip to the base was made in silence. General Sullivan told me we were about ten minutes away and then began a conversation.   
"You're lucky you know, Ms. Gerard."   
"Why is that?"   
"You'll be the first member of your class to meet your instructor."   
"And who is this instructor? I've heard much about him, but have never been told his name?"   
"None of the lines of communication have been secure enough for us to disclose his identity. He's currently target number one for terrorist organizations. He's one of the famous Animorphs, Jake Berenson."   
I jerked in surprise. "Jake?!"   
"Who else? He's the only Animorph up to a job of this importance. The girl is off saving the trees and the other guy is staring in a TV show."   
_Cassie and Marco_, I thought to myself. _Of course_. "And what of the others?"   
"What others?"   
"The other boy, was Tobias his name? And the Andalite."   
"Where have you been, Ms. Gerard, under a rock? The Andalite is with his own people now, and the bird disappeared the day after Rachel's memorial service."   
My throat constricted at hearing that. Tobias had disappeared after my memorial. He must have been so torn up over   
that . . . . "May I ask a question, General?"   
"You may ask whatever you want, Ms. Gerard, I can't promise an answer though."   
"Of course not. You remember the name of Jake, of course, and Rachel. Why none of the others?"   
"I remember Jake because I work with him on a daily basis. Rachel is the only other one worth remembering. She's the only Animorph to go down fighting."   
"But what of the Andalite? He's fighting still, is he not?"   
"I'll be frank with you, Ms. Gerard. I don't really care for the Andalites, I'd rather have them stay on their own planet and leave ours alone. But I'm not like the crazy fanatics you're here to learn to fight against. I suppose they have the right to come and go as they please, so long as they don't hurt anyone. Besides, their names are too damn hard to pronounce."   
"And what of the other surviving Animorphs?"   
"The boy's an opportunistic glutton for fame. The girl's nothing but a whimpering moralizer who spends all of her time with those alien salad shooters. The bird's a coward who abandoned his people when things got hard. Why bother to remember their names when everyone will forget them soon enough? People are already forgetting the bird and Rachel."   
I took several deep breaths to control my anger. His assessment of Marco I could agree with. Jeanne had memories of seeing him on TV several times, and he even had a best selling book. He was still the Marco I remembered. But Cassie nothing more than a 'whimpering moralizer?' I hadn't always agreed with her morals and constant questions about right and wrong, but I respected her opinions. And Tobias a coward? Tobias was one of the bravest people I had _ever_ known, and most likely ever would. How _dare_ this pompous son of a bitch say otherwise?   
I was about to give the general a piece of my mind when we stopped just outside a chain link fence at a guard station. The general traded a few words with the guard on duty before the guard opened the gate for us. The general drove to the runway then parked the jeep.   
"Here we are, Ms. Gerard," he said as he offered to help me out of the jeep. I ignored his offered hand and got out on my own. "I believe Jake is already inside that plane."   
The plane was relatively small, especially compared to the commercial plane I had just flown in on. I figured there was room for four passengers, at the most, inside. They probably wouldn't be all that comfortable, either.   
A door on the side of the plane opened and I saw a man standing there. "General Sullivan! Is that the new girl?" he shouted.   
"Yes, sir!" the general shouted back. "Jeanne Gerard, Deuxieme Bureau."   
A flight of stairs was pushed up to the plane and I was instructed to go up. The man was there to meet me when I climbed up. "Jake Berenson, a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Gerard."   
Now that I was close, I could see the similarities between the Jake I'd seen just before I died and the man who stood before me now. Both had the same serious, brown eyes and solid build. But this Jake, while he was only 19, looked so much older, older even than he had when I'd died. The last three years hadn't been easy on him. And he was taller than me, a strange feeling indeed. I had _never_ had to look up to Jake, yet here I was, about a head shorter than him.   
"Are you alright, Ms. Gerard?"   
"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine, Mr. Berenson," I said, slightly flustered. I must have zoned out while I was appraising him.   
Jake cocked an eyebrow. "You're seven years older than me, Ms. Gerard, you don't need to call me 'Mister.' It's Jake."   
"Only if you'll call me Ra - Jeanne." God, almost blew my cover there. Smooth move, Rachel. Jeanne. Whoever the hell I was.   
"Sir? We need to leave now if we want to arrive at Twenty-Nine on time," a soldier told Jake.   
"Of course," Jake said. "Come on in, Jeanne. It's a little cramped in here, but the flight's a short one."   
Jake wasn't kidding when he said it was cramped. There were already three men in the passenger area, which was only meant to hold two comfortably. Two of them were standing, one was sitting, leaving only two empty chairs for Jake and myself.   
"Sorry it's so crowded," Jake apologized. "I need the constant security. I assume you already know that terrorist organizations aren't too fond of me. I didn't find out you would be riding with us until I arrived here, otherwise I would have requested a larger plane."   
"It's fine," I assured Jake. "I've been in worse situations than this one."   
"I can imagine, I suppose the life of a Deuxieme Bureau trainee is never dull."   
"It's certainly full of adventures," I said smoothly. The lies came easily, though I wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was years of lying to my mother, or maybe Crayak was controlling some of my answers, or maybe it was an instinctive yet noncommittal answer from Jeanne's brain.   
Jake and I discussed neutral topics during the flight. We avoided discussing our work aside from his first comment about how the life of a trainee is never dull. We talked about our families, though it was painful for both of us, about the weather, even about sports, as it turned out Jeanne was a basketball fan and, of course, Jake was too.   
We were in the air only an hour before we landed again at the top secret Twenty-Nine Palms Marine Corps base. Another random, nameless soldier met as as Jake, his security entourage, and I exited the plane. "Jeanne Gerard, Private Armstrong will lead you to your barracks," the young soldier told me. He pointed to the pretty blond woman who had accompanied him, Private Armstrong had an uncanny resemblance to me . . . well, Rachel-me. Definitely not Jeanne-me. Hopefully I wouldn't see too much of her while I was here. "Professor Berenson, I believe you and your security people know the way to your quarters."   
"Professor?" I asked Jake before we separated.   
Jake sighed. "A nick name my first class made up for me. I wouldn't let them call me Mr. Berenson, so they dubbed me Professor. I haven't even graduated high school and I'm already a professor. Pretty nifty trick, huh?"   
I laughed. "Indeed it is, Professor." I winked before I followed Private Armstrong to the bland building that housed the student barracks.   
"Your luggage will be delivered in the morning," Armstrong said formally. She was standing in the doorway of my room while I looked around the place. "Your roommates will be arriving either late tonight or early tomorrow morning. Class starts promptly at 1000 hours tomorrow, no exceptions. After tomorrow they begin at 0730. Any questions?"   
"Yes, where can I eat?"   
"The cafeteria is the large square facility just to the right of this building. Meals are served promptly at 0600, 1200 and 1900 hours. However, I believe it is being kept open late tonight for students such as yourself."   
I interpreted the string of numbers Armstrong had given me quickly. Class tomorrow began at ten, after tomorrow it would begin at 7:30. Breakfast was at six, lunch at noon and dinner at seven. Hopefully the food would be better than it had been on the plane. "Alright. Thank you, Private. I believe I can handle it from here." The blond woman nodded and marched away. I shut the door as soon as she was gone, thankful that I didn't have to deal with her anymore that evening. It was strange to see somebody who looked so much like me, or the 'me' I remembered being.   
"I'm going to go insane trying to keep this straight," I muttered to myself. I went into the bathroom and looked at Jeanne's - no, _my_ face in the mirror. "I am Jeanne Gerard, trainee for the Deuxieme Bureau," I told myself. "I am Jeanne Gerard. I am Jeanne Gerard. I _am_ Jeanne -"   
"Hellooo? Anybody here?"   
I jumped. "Uh, yes, I am." I left the bathroom. "I'm Jeanne Gerard. Who are you?"   
"Jordan Berenson, F.B.I. Who do you work for?"   
"Deuxieme Bureau," I said faintly. Wasn't this just peachy? First Jake, then a Rachel look alike, and now my own freaking _sister_! "Um, you seem awfully young to be in the Bureau, if you don't mind my mentioning it."   
Jordan laughed. "Not at all, I get it all the time. I'm 17, but they let me graduate high school early and go right into the bureau. They had a shortage of agents who wanted to be trained in fighting terrorism with morphs, and who better for the job than the sister of an Animorph and the cousin of the instructor?"   
Funny, I'd never imagined Jordan going into the F.B.I. She'd certainly never told _me_ about any desire to go into that line of work. "So you're related to Jake?"   
"The one and only. My sister was Rachel."   
The past tense sounded weird to me, but I quickly brushed it away. _I am Jeanne Gerard. _"Quite an impressive family."   
"I like to think so. Hopefully I'll live up to the examples they've set." Jordan looked around the room. "You chosen a bunk yet?"   
"I just got here myself. Feel free to have first choice."   
"Cool." Jordan climbed the ladder of the nearest bed and sat on it. "Top bunk is always the best, don't you think?"   
Jordan was another person who'd changed since I'd died. She'd always been reserved and kind of quiet when I'd been around. Sara had been the most talkative out of the three of us. Maybe she'd been forced to come out of her shell by adopting the role of oldest sister. Well, at least she hadn't wasted the last three years of her life mourning my death.   
_Rachel's death._   
"Definitely," I told Jordan. I climbed up the ladder to the other top bunk. "Reminds me of the old game, king of the mountain."   
Jordan looked down off her bunk. "Except I don't think I'd want to be pushed off of here."   
I laughed. "No, of course not." I laid down on my bed, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. 

***

When I woke up the next morning at 0500, I found two other women sleeping on the bottom bunks. I suppose everyone else was suffering from jet lag, but I hadn't been on this plane of existance long enough to get used to Paris time.   
I found four suitcases lined up just inside the door. Mine was the only one that was filled to the point where it hardly closed, so it was easy to find even though it was almost identical to the other three. I pulled out one of the suits I'd packed, underwear, a towel and shampoo then went into the bathroom to shower. When I was finished and dressed, I went back into the room to see Jordan just waking up.   
"How on Earth can you get up this early?" she asked me. "Besides, shouldn't you be suffering from jet lag?"   
"What can I say? I adapt. Are you going to shower? Because I want breakfast."   
"Go on without me. If I don't see you in the cafeteria, I'll see you in class."   
The cafeteria was filling fast by the time I arrived, just shortly after 0600. Most of the tables were filled with people in army fatigues, but there was a table near the back where two men in civilian clothes were eating. I got my breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal and some fruit, and made my way back to them.   
"Excuse me, but is this seat taken?" I asked when I approached.   
"No, of course not," one of the men said. He jumped up and pulled the chair out for me. I smiled and thanked him. "Are you a student in the anti terrorist morphing course?"   
"Of course I am, why else would I have asked to sit with you two? I am Jeanne Gerard, Deuxieme Bureau."   
"Sergeant Santorelli, U.S. Army Ranger," the man who'd pulled out my chair for me said. "My silent partner here is Sergeant Carlton, also with the Rangers." Carlton nodded in silent greeting, I returned the gesture.   
"You're up awfully early," Santorelli said between bites of the oatmeal. "I figured most everyone would be jet lagged. And the women would probably spend a couple hours getting ready."   
"Well, the other three women in my room do seem to be suffering the after effects of jet lag. One arrived shortly after I did last night, the other two arrived sometime while we were asleep. I woke at 0500 however and didn't take a couple hours getting ready."   
"0500? And you came here all the way from France?"   
"Paris itself."   
"Damn, I didn't get up until 0550, and I'm just from Colorado."   
"Well, I guess relatively, compared to you I _did_ take a couple of hours to ready myself for the day." Santorelli and I laughed. It was beginning to look more and more like this wouldn't be such a bad way to spend two weeks. 

***

I passed Jake's class without any effort, really. I knew about all the mistakes we had made, I didn't need to be trained in how _not_ to make them.   
On the last day of the class, Jake came in late, which was highly unusual. He was always there when we arrived in the morning, and was still there when we left in the afternoon. I never saw him outside of the classroom. He went right to the front of the room and stood there silently until everyone was in their seats, absolutely still.   
"I've been given a mission, and I need some volunteers in order for it to be successful," he started flatly. "It's going to be dangerous, most likely you won't come back alive. It's illegal, anyone who comes will me will be required to disappear without a trace. This means no approval from your governments, and no chance to say goodbye to your families.   
"This isn't a chance at glory, either. You won't be paid, you won't be promoted, I can't even guarantee you'll be treated well. You'll be the lowest man or woman on the totem pole and will take orders from me and possibly my associates.   
"I'm asking for volunteers. I won't require any of you to go, you all have lives back here that I don't expect you to abandon, but there's a new threat out there that I have to face, I don't want to face it alone. Who's willing to come with me?"   
Well, after a rousing speech like that, who _wouldn't_ want to go? Nobody in the room moved. Jake scanned the faces of everyone in the class room, waiting for someone to make a move.   
After a minute of the oppressive silence, I sighed and raised my hand. "I volunteer, sir."   
Santorelli followed my lead. He raised his hand and said, "I volunteer."   
One by one, hands from 21 of the 24 students were raised. Jake looked each student in the face, pausing briefly on those who hadn't volunteered. Anja VanDykema, from Germany; Bruce Holmes, from Britain; and Jordan. I don't know the reasons behind Anja's and Bruce's refusal to volunteer, but I understood Jordan's. She couldn't just up and disappear. I'd learned in the last two weeks that her mother depended on her to keep the family together. Naomi hadn't taken Rachel's death well, though she was beginning to be able to function normally again by now. She'd probably snap if Jordan suddenly turned up missing.   
Jake nodded after a minute and told us we could put our hands down. "Class is dismissed for the day, I'll contact you if you're chosen for the mission." He sat down at his desk as the members of the class quietly exited.   
We tried to enjoy our unexpected free day, but there wasn't much to do on a top secret army base for a bunch of visitors to do. On the weekends we were allowed to go to the nearest town to catch a movie, but today there wasn't anything for us to do. So eventually we retreated to our rooms until lunch.   
"How many people do you think the Professor's going to take?" Mira Sakamouto, another one of my roommates, asked when the four of us had returned to our room.   
"As many as he can use, I'm sure," Lynn O'Conner answered.   
"I think he'll keep it small," Jordan said.   
"How small?" Mira asked.   
"He'll probably have six in the group, total. Who knows how many 'associates' he already has with him. He could take anywhere from four to only one."   
"Why six?" Lynn asked.   
"The number of Animorphs," I answered quietly. I smiled to myself. Yes, Jordan was right. Six was the perfect number. It had worked relatively well before, hadn't it? 

***

I met with my classmates at noon for lunch at the few tables we'd commandeered on the first morning as the students' tables. Instead of the animated conversations we usually had, we ate in silence. We were all anticipating the announcement of who would go with Jake.   
We were taking care of our trays when Jake walked into the cafeteria. The regular soldiers continued on as if nothing had happened, but all the students froze.   
"Santorelli? Jeanne? Come with me please."   
Santorelli and I exchanged looks, but we didn't say anything as we followed Jake back to his quarters.   
"I've chosen you two to accompany us on this mission," Jake said when we were all in his small room. "We leave tonight, 2200 hours. Meet me at the motor pool, understood?"   
"Yes, sir," Santorelli and I said in unison.   
"Good. You're dismissed." 

***

Jake didn't discuss the mission until we were well on our way out of the base that evening. After the explanation, we rode most of the way in silence, save for Marco's complaining. And subtle flirting.   
"See? You really should have put Jeanne up here with us. A bump like that might bruise her. I could have protected her," Marco said after we hit a hard bump. I rolled my eyes. Maybe this was another cosmic joke that was being played on me: Marco crushed on Rachel in my last life, and here he was lusting after me in this one. If I was reincarnated again, Marco was sure to be there, annoying me the whole way.   
I was about to defend myself when Jake, noble Jake, stepped in for me. I could have gotten indignant on him, too, but he was my teacher this time around. He was younger than me, but I respected him. Enough to let him try and take care of Marco for me, anyways. If I'd replied, Marco probably would have interpreted it as flirting and then he'd _never_ leave me alone.   
Marco took out the two Andalite guards easily enough with his gorilla morph. When we were all on the shuttle, and he was demorphed, he stood beside me on the bridge and said casually, "You know, I could be kind of a mentor to you. If we worked closely together I could teach you all I know."   
"And what could I possibly do to repay you?" I asked sarcastically.   
Marco didn't get it. "Well . . ." he was about to get into specifics I _really_ didn't want to hear, so I interrupted him.   
"I know! Perhaps someday I could introduce you to my cousin Michelle. She likes short men. Even as short as you." It was a little lie. I had no cousins, let alone one named Michelle, but it was the first thing I thought of, and it gave me a chance to send a barb to Marco, something Rachel had always enjoyed and Jeanne was fast learning to.   
Marco winced. "Ah. Beautiful and mean. I like you." I rolled my eyes while Marco looked over at Jake. "Jake, when you get a minute could you help me pull this knife out of my chest?"   
We reached orbit and my gaze was locked on the view screen. Rachel had seen Earth from space before, but it was mesmerizing every time. Santorelli, however, was the only one on the ship who, technically, had never been in space before. He tried to mask his pleasure, but before long he had a pretty dopey smile plastered on his face.   
"Cool, huh?" Jake asked.   
"I've seen it on TV," Santorelli said, trying vainly to be calm about it. "This is better."   
Jake was about to ask for my opinion, but Menderash, the Andalite who'd become a human _nothlit_ in order to help with this mission interrupted him, saying he had locked in on our objective. Jake ordered us to go forward and "see what she looks like."   
The six of us stood there on the bridge, trying to memorize every detail of the ship before us. It was different from the other Yeerk ship I'd seen. They had been practically devoid of all aesthetic value, at least to human senses. This ship was almost pleasant looking. Dangerous, but it didn't assault the eyes with nothing but hard planes and angles.   
Jake finally gave the order for us to go aboard, but Menderash hesitated.   
"What?" Jake asked.   
"It's nothing, Captain," Menderash answered. "Just a custom. An Andalite custom. We always name a ship before the first crewman boards - it's an old notion, a superstition, really. The thinking is that the ship must know who _it_ is before the crew an know it."   
Jake visibly relaxed. I think he was nervous that Menderash wouldn't take orders from him. "Fair enough, Menderash. Our own superstition is that a ship is never an 'it,' it's always a 'she.' Even if the ship is named after a male, it's a 'she.'"   
Once again, the six of us stood and inspected the ship as it was silhouetted against the sunrise over Earth.   
Marco was the first one to ask it. "So what do we call her?"   
She's beautiful, > Tobias said. She's beautiful and dangerous and exciting. >   
Jake turned to Tobias with a look of surprise on his face. I struggled not to do the same thing, after all, Jeanne Gerard had no idea about what Tobias could be talking about, she had only known Tobias for a few hours.   
Marco finally caught on and laughed. "She would love it. A scary, deadly, cool-looking Yeerk ship on a doomed, suicidal, crazy mission that no one can ever know about? She would love it."   
The three of them said the name in unison. Our new ship would be christened the _Rachel._   
I found it hard to hold back the tears as I stepped onto the ship. A ship named after Rachel, Marco was right, I loved it. I couldn't ask for a better tribute. Jeanne had once visited Rachel's memorial on one of her trips to the States, and the _Rachel_ was a much better tribute than that one. The one on Earth was beautiful and all, but it didn't _do_ anything. The _Rachel_ on the other hand, did.   
Marco noticed the unshed tears. He quickly put an arm around me. "You alright, Jeanne? Is there anything I can do for you?"   
I shrugged him away. "I'm fine, Marco. Just . . . emotional, I guess."   
"Being around me has that effect on women. They can't help it."   
"Not about you," I snapped. "I never knew Rachel, of course, but I have read about her. This ship seems a fitting tribute to her, better than anything they have on Earth."   
Agreed, > Tobias said. It was the first time he'd spoken to me since we'd met. Our eyes met and I couldn't help but wonder if he somehow recognized a bit of the old Rachel in Jeanne, or if there really was any Rachel left in Jeanne at all. I had done a pretty good job the last couple weeks getting myself to think of myself as 'Jeanne.' Rachel, after all, was dead. She'd live on only in the memories of the Animorphs, and this ship.   
We spent our days in Z-Space either learning from Menderash how to pilot the _Rachel_, or finding various ways to amuse ourselves. Marco had brought along several DVDs so we spent time watching those, but they got old real fast. He hadn't brought DVDs of newer movies, so the only movie he had that I hadn't seen before Rachel had died was Spielburg's _Animorph_. The actor who played Rachel was totally wrong for the part, by the way. She was the same height as the guy who played Marco. I was quickly forgetting many things about Rachel's life, but there was one thing I remembered: no matter who's body I was in, I was _always_ taller than Marco. Jeanne may have been shorter than Jake, but she still had a few inches on Marco.   
It took nearly a year, and numerous wrong turns (what could I expect? I was the only woman on board and Jeanne wasn't experienced enough, by Jake's standards, to do much navigating, so of course we got lost), but we found the Blade Ship we'd been searching for. Or rather, it found us.   
I'd been eating with Santorelli and Tobias when Tobias, in his hawk form, heard Menderash and Marco talking. Marco says a ship is hailing us. >   
"What?" Santorelli and I asked in unison. We jumped from our chairs as Menderash made the call over the ship's communication systems. "Captain to the bridge!"   
"Crap, let's go," I said, leading the way to the bridge.   
We reached the bridge shortly after Jake had ordered a response to the ship's hail. "Receiving response," Menderash said. "And a request for visual, two-way communication."   
Uh-oh, > Tobias said, stating what the rest of us were thinking.   
"What do we show them?" Santorelli asked.   
"Not me," Jake said quickly. "If it's the Blade ship they may recognize me. Or Marco, or Tobias, for that matter." He looked from me, to Menderash to Santorelli quickly. "Santorelli, you're the best B.S. artist aside from Marco. So you're the captain. Jeanne, you stand with him. Everyone else out of view." Marco winked at me as we took our places; him, Jake, Tobias and Menderash to one side of the bridge, Santorelli standing in the center with me close behind him. "Narrow the audio channel to pick up Santorelli only. Okay, open communications."   
The image that appeared certainly wasn't what I'd expected. It was a human man, he looked to be around 40, and he was laughing. At us.   
"So you come from the Federation, do you? And where is Captain Picard?"   
Both Santorelli and I shot looks to Jake and the others. The _Federation_?! What the hell had they been thinking.   
"You've always thought of yourself as more of a Captain Kirk," Marco prompted Santorelli.   
Santorelli quickly regained his composure. His stance immediately altered, so he practically oozed pomposity. I mimicked his self assurance, but kept myself from being quite so cocky. I was only the second in command, after all. "I've always thought of myself as more of a Captain Kirk," Santorelli said.   
Menderash was still working the sensors. "Sensor confirmation," he whispered, "It's the Blade ship."   
Everyone tensed a little bit. The Yeerk captain didn't seem to notice however. He simply nodded to Santorelli. "That's quite a ship you have there . . . excuse me, I don't know your name."   
Marco made a slashing gesture big enough for Santorelli and I to see from our peripheral vision. "You're Rakich-Four-Six-Nine-One of the Flet Niaar Pool."   
Dutifully, Santorelli repeated what Marco said, and the Yeerk seemed to buy it. "I am Efflit-One-Three-One-Eight of the Sulp Niar Pool. Well met. And what exactly are you doing here, brother? And how do you come to be flying a new cruiser-class ship?"   
"I might ask the same of you," Santorelli said. He was getting used to his role now, he didn't need Marco's prompting. "I find it hard to imagine what business a ship of the Yeerk Empire has in this far-flung quadrant."   
Menderash interrupted us again with a whispered sensor report. "He's powering up his weapons and maneuvering to bring them to bear."   
"He thinks we're from the Yeerk Empire," Jake said. "Maybe here to hunt him down as a traitor."   
"My mission here is classified," Efflit 1318 told Santorelli.   
Santorelli nodded, though he didn't seem to believe what the Yeerk was saying. "As is mine."   
Neither Santorelli or Efflit 1318 spoke for a long moment. Both of our ships had powered weapons. Both were trying to get an edge if firing should break out, but if it came to fighting, the _Rachel_ was gone. She was a tough little ship, but she wasn't capable of going up against a Blade ship.   
There was some cruel irony in that. Rachel hadn't survived her last fight on the Blade ship, and now it looked like the _Rachel_ wouldn't survive her fight with the same ship, either. This ship just had it in for anything with the name 'Rachel.'   
While I'd been thinking about the situation, Jake had been whispering orders to Santorelli. "It occurs to me, Efflit-One-Three-One-Eight," Santorelli said, "that it would be a tragedy if any misunderstanding occurred here between us."   
"Indeed?" Efflit 1318 asked skeptically. "And what misunderstanding _could_ occur, Rakich-Four-Six-Nine-One?"   
Santorelli sighed. He was doing a wonderful job, acting as if he had been defeated. Definitely an Oscar worthy performance. "There is no empire, Efflit-One-Three-One-Eight. The empire is finished. I . . . my crew and I seized this ship and escaped as the Andalites closed in. We had heard that a Blade ship had escaped and survived. We have been looking for you ever since. For more than three years."   
It seemed everyone on the _Rachel_ was hold their breath as Efflit nodded. It all depended on him now, would he buy our story? He was all alone in the universe, but was he lonely enough to agree to the first offer that came along?   
"Will you place yourself under the command of The One?"   
Everybody looked a little shocked at that. That certainly wasn't what we'd expected to here. "The who?" he managed to say intelligently.   
Efflit explained. "I command this ship, but I serve at the pleasure of The One Who Is Many. The One Who Is _All_. We are not alone, Rakich-Four-Six-Nine-One. We are not _this_ ship alone. We are the seeds of a new empire that will far outshine the old, under the leadership of The One."   
Santorelli paused, trying to buy us some time. "Um, who is this . . . this One?"   
"I will invoke his presence," Efflit said. He closed his eyes and raised his face.   
There was a long pause as we expectantly waited for . . . well, whatever it was Efflit was going to do. As we waited, our two ships drew closer together, until we were so close that there was no turning back. If Efflit was toying with us, playing a game, it was a good one. And if it was a game, it would certainly be deadly for us.   
Suddenly the screen went blank. Efflit was gone.   
Tobias was the first to speak. What the - >   
A bright light began to emanate from the screen. Then it was more than just the screen. The whole front of the bridge was glowing, glowing with a light so bright it seemed to shine right through the bulkheads.   
Gradually, as our eyes adjusted to the sudden assault of light, an image appeared. It was an alien I'd never seen before, and judging from the looks on the other's faces, one they hadn't seen either.   
But the image wasn't static, it slowly dissolved from a robot, to a machine with a rat-trap for a mouth and steel eyes, into an elfin image, until finally it ended with the familiar sight of Ax's face.   
Ax? > Tobias whispered.   
Suddenly, Ax's face split open at the bottom to reveal a mouth full of pointed, grotesque red-rimmed teeth.   
"Save your tricks for this Yeerk fool," The One ordered. "I see the truth. I see all. Step into view, Jake the Yeerk-Killer. I know you are there, I feel your mind."   
There was no denying The One's voice. All of us _knew_ that he knew Jake was there. So Jake stepped up in front of Santorelli.   
"I'm here."   
"You have done well to come this far. You have come to find your friend. But the Andalite is part of me now. As you will soon be."   
All of us stared in shock at the disgusting face on the screen. The evil that was emanating from The One rivaled that of only one being I'd ever encountered before. Crayak. But Crayak had never been enclosed in such a tiny ship, it didn't seem like something that small could contain that much malevolence.   
"Can we shoot?" Jake asked Menderash aloud. I guess he figured that since The One knew everything anyway, secrecy didn't matter anymore.   
"His Dracon cannon have longer range and greater power," Menderash reported. "And his defensive fields have been enhanced. I doubt our cannon can penetrate them."   
"Thought so," Jake said. The calm in his voice never wavered. "But we're faster."   
"Yes."   
Jake took a deep breath. "Okay." He looked at each of us on the bridge until his gaze finally rested on Marco. "What was it, Marco? 'Crazy, reckless, ruthless decisions'?"   
I wondered what the hell was going on, but Marco just nodded.   
I looked back to Jake, the look on his face scared me. He was smiling. A dangerous smile. A familiar smile.   
Rachel's smile.   
"Full emergency power to the engines," Jake said. "Ram the Blade ship."   
Menderash nodded and a smile of his own grew on his face. "Yes, Captain."   
"This is gonna be one hell of a ride," Santorelli muttered.   
Marco moved close to me and put an arm around my waist. I didn't say anything this time, too much information was assaulting my brain.   
Crayak, as far as I knew, had left me alone so far. He hadn't interfered with Jeanne's life, at least not in an overt way, but now he was sending some sort of transmission to my brain so I could only understand one thought.   
_Stop Jake. Do not destroy The One._   
The barrage of commands was too much for my brain to handle at once. I froze, unable to do anything. If the others noticed, I'm sure they would have attributed my lack of movement to fear. I guess Crayak realized I wasn't going to be able to do anything with his constant commands, so they lessened to background noise, once again giving me control of my motor functions.   
"No!" I shouted. I leaped forward, out of Marco's grasp, and shoved Menderash away from the navigation station.   
I was by no means an expert on navigation the _Rachel_, but again Crayak was in my mind, guiding my hands so they flew across the controls faster than even Menderash's. Almost instantly we were pulling away from The One and his Blade ship, but would it be enough time.   
"Jeanne! What are you doing?" Jake shouted.   
I didn't answer, I just stared at the navigating controls, hoping that I had gotten there in time.   
Menderash got to his feet again and pulled me away from the controls. Marco and Santorelli were beside me immediately, holding me down.   
"Let me go!" I demanded, flailing my arms and legs.   
"What did she do?" Jake demanded, standing just behind Menderash.   
"She took us off our collision course with the Blade ship." Menderash looked up at Jake, fear on his face, "They're powering up weapons!"   
"How fast can you get us out of here?"   
"Not fast enough," Menderash said grimly.   
"I don't care what you have to do, just evade those Dracon cannons and get us the hell out of here!"   
The guys all waited in grim silence as Menderash carried out Jake's orders skillfully. I was still on the floor, being held tightly by Marco and Santorelli. "Let me go," I repeated several times over as I kicked at them.   
Tobias hopped over and perched on my head. Calm down now, Jeanne, before you suddenly find yourself without eyes. >   
I got out a few more good kicks before Tobias' meaning sunk through. I knew he'd do it, too, and he wouldn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. I was a traitor in their eyes, but I was only doing what I had to do. I'd had no choice.   
_You decided, Rachel_, addressing myself for the first time in weeks by my old name. _You accepted Crayak's offer. You resisted him in life, but in death you were weak and agreed to his deal._   
I felt tears stinging behind my eyes. It was true. I was weak. Rachel herself had been strong, but in Jeanne's body, with 26 years of memories from Jeanne, she was weak.   
Suddenly, I looked up at the screen and saw we were back in Z-Space. Menderash had saved the _Rachel. _He and Jake turned back to me.   
"What the hell were you doing?" Jake asked evenly. I recognized the voice, or Rachel did. It was the low tone he used right before he got really angry.   
"Following orders," I replied simply.   
"I told you back in class you would accept orders from me, and possibly those I worked with. No one else. And no one here gave any order to stop the ramming of the Blade ship."   
"I take orders from a higher power than you."   
"Who's that? God?" Marco asked sarcastically. Jake shot him a look but I ignored both of them.   
"Crayak."   
_Crayak, why are you having me reveal this?_ I pleaded silently. _They'll kill me again._   
_ Patience, child,_ Crayak soothed. _All will be revealed in time._   
Crayak, > Tobias hissed.   
"Who's Crayak?" Santorelli asked.   
"A being who's even more powerful than The One," I answered. "He's a unique entity in the universe. In your terms, evil for the sake of being evil, as his counterpart the Ellimist is good for the sake of being good."   
"And how does The One fit into their plans?" Jake asked.   
"I only know what Crayak has told me, and he has not chosen to share that information with me."   
Marco looked up at Jake. "Let me do it, Jake. One quick punch from the gorilla and she's gone."   
"No," Jake answered quickly. He looked confused for a moment, but he repeated himself. "No, we'll let her live. For now."   
I smiled to myself. Crayak had helped me again. He'd given me a quick explanation and he'd kept Jake from killing me, for awhile at least.   
Why? > Tobias demanded. Why the hell should we let this . . . _creature_ live? >   
"She might be useful still," Jake said. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he didn't quite know where all this was coming from, but he couldn't stop it, either. "Take her back to her room. Lock her in there. I want somebody guarding her door at all times."   
"Yes, sir," Santorelli said. He and Marco roughly picked me up and half walked, half dragged me back to my quarters. I didn't fight them, I knew it was pointless. Crayak would take care of everything.   
I wasn't in my quarters long before Drode appeared beside me, sitting on my bed with me. I jumped up to get away from him. "You. What do you want?"   
Drode shook his head and made a _tsk, tsk_ sound. "We're practically related now, Rachel, and that's still how you treat me?"   
"Well you're obviously the black sheep of the family. Get out of here."   
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Crayak has sent me to you."   
"What for?"   
"Instructions."   
I leaned against the wall furthest from the bed. "I'm listening."   
"Crayak commends you for your quick actions back on the bridge, though he apologizes for the overload that occurred. He hasn't had many humans under his control before, you're certainly the first one in a position of real importance."   
I rolled my eyes. "Cut the crap, Drode. What are the instructions?"   
"Simple. Kill Jake."   
I shook my head. "No. How many times do I have to tell him 'no!'? I _won't_ kill Jake."   
"_Rachel_ wouldn't kill Jake," Drode corrected. "Jeanne is a whole other story."   
"Well Rachel is still somewhere inside Jeanne," I shot back. "Tell Crayak I won't do it, killing Jake is where I draw the line."   
"Why, Rachel?" I suddenly found myself standing before Crayak, the hybrid of organic material and machines, instead of in my quarters aboard the _Rachel_ arguing with Drode. "Jeanne has already done so much for our cause, this is only one more step. Besides, what have you to lose? Earth is safe from imminent danger, you won't be sacrificing your friends and relatives to the Yeerks."   
"But how long will it take this One character to reach Earth and . . . do whatever it is he does to them."   
"He assimilates them into his self," Crayak explained. "He is a creature of my creation, much like my Howlers were. I based him off a creature I saw in Ellimist's own memories, a creature known only as Father. Father captured other creatures and assimilated their minds and bodies into his own, The One does much the same thing."   
"But he took Ax's form. The Yeerks just seemed to be his missionaries."   
"The Yeerks aboard the Blade ship are all part of The One. They are his eyes and ears, while the Andalite is just one of the many physical forms he uses. He shifted through many forms, some you could see and some you couldn't, before he found one that resonated with you and the Animorphs on their ship."   
"Why? Why create him?"   
"The Yeerks were my main pawns, I supported them the most, but I had many side bets, I guess you could call them, going even as I worked with the Yeerks. Ellimist has them, too. He's been seeding worlds for millennia, encouraging life where ever he could find it. Usually I would simply destroy the worlds he created, but on some I could see they had potential. If I introduced a single variable in many cases, I could make the creatures of a planet evolve into something I could use. This was the case with The One. He was, much like you, a happy accident."   
"Don't you dare compare me to that, that _thing_."   
"Whatever you wish, Rachel. Or is it Jeanne now? Which would you rather have me call you?"   
"It's Jeanne," I said through gritted teeth. "Rachel is dead. She has been for four years."   
"Good, I'm glad your realize that. It makes it so much easier for you to carry out your next order."   
"I won't kill Jake," I said firmly.   
"Why?" I didn't answer right away. "Why, _Jeanne_," Crayak pressed. "What is keeping you from killing Jake? You've known him for hardly a year, you've never been extremely close to him. You've spent your time on the _Rachel_ either alone, talking casually with the human Santorelli, or fighting off Marco's unwelcome advances. You've almost been avoiding Jake."   
"I may be Jeanne now, but I still have Rachel's memories. Rachel remembers the times you tried to trick her into killing Jake."   
"Rachel was a different person. It's time for you to make your own decisions."   
"I've already made my decision."   
Crayak sighed. "Alright. If you've made your decision, I'm afraid I have no other choice."   
I wanted to ask what he meant, but before I could I found myself back in my quarters aboard the _Rachel_, alone now. For the first time since I had become Jeanne, I felt fear. Real fear. What would Crayak do to me now?   
I was left alone for several hours. I was just about to go to sleep when the doors to my quarters opened and Jake walked in.   
"Jeanne," he said flatly.   
"Jake, I can explain," I said quickly. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm -"   
"I don't want to hear it," Jake snapped at me. "I want to know what you did to me on the bridge. Why couldn't I give orders for myself?"   
"It was -" I was cut off mid-response. Not by anything Jake said or did, but I was suddenly physically incapable of speaking. I felt another presence inside me, another force taking hold of my body and mind. Forcing me back until all I could do was hide in a dark corner of my mind, unable to do anything but cry, because I knew what had happened to me.   
Crayak said he had been left no other choice. This was his decision: if I wouldn't kill Jake, he'd use me to kill Jake.   
_No! This goes against all your rules!_   
_ The Rules do not matter now, little one, _Crayak told me. _Now stay back there. Don't interfere._   
"I'm waiting, Jeanne," Jake said impatiently, his voice still dangerously low.   
"I've been waiting even longer," Crayak said, using a voice that I could hardly recognize as my own.   
Jake looked startled. That certainly wasn't the response he'd been expecting. Crayak took advantage of that surprise, taking the opportunity to leap at Jake.   
Crayak was about to make contact with Jake when everything froze. Jake's look of surprise and fear, Crayak, using Jeanne's body, in mid air. I couldn't even hear the sound of the air recyclers on the ship. I was totally alone. I knew only one being who could do this sort of thing.   
"Ellimist," I whispered.   
"I'm here, Rachel." He appeared in his favorite guise, that of a frail old man. I looked down at myself and realized that yes, I really _was_ Rachel again. I was back to being the 16 year old I had been just moment before I had died on the Blade ship, I was even still dressed in my morphing suit.   
"What happened?" I asked.   
"Crayak broke the terms of our agreement," the Ellimist explained. "He did find a loophole in our Rules when he first offered you the chance to live again. But he broke them when he took control of you. First on the bridge, and then in here, just now. All the pawns in our games are to be left with their free will intact, we cannot interfere directly."   
I shook my head. "I'll never understand your rules of non-interference."   
The Ellimist laughed gently. "Sometimes even I do not understand our Rules."   
"So why are you here? What happens now?"   
"The time from when Crayak first interfered with you on the bridge is erased. Jeanne shall be given her own personality back, and time will be left to continue as it was meant to."   
"So Jeanne, she was really alive before I took over?"   
"In a way. Jeanne is a rare breed of human, one who knows she's meant for more than she appears to be at first. It's what drove her to become a member of the Deuxieme Bureau. It was always part of her fate that you would be part of her for awhile, though the length of time you'd be in control was never known."   
"So will she remember that I was there?"   
"Not directly. She will feel a sense of peace, her mission will have been completed."   
I nodded. "What happens to me now?"   
The Ellimist put a hand on my shoulder. "It's time to go."   
I nodded, I knew what he meant. "Can I, I don't know, at least watch? See what happens to my friends?"   
The Ellimist smiled and nodded. "Of course."   
I suddenly found myself in the bizarre space that the Ellimist had had us visit before, a place where I could see all the timelines that ever were, and the timelines that ever will be, all twisting and turning inside and out of eachother.   
I was still in my human body, in a way. My _Rachel_ human body. It's hard to explain what people look like in this place.   
From here I could see the time line that I had been a part of as Jeanne dim and finally disappear, only to re-start where it had left off. On the bridge of the _Rachel_.   
I looked closer at that timeline, and found I could actually see the events that were happening.   
I saw Jake's dangerous smile, the smile that looked so much like my own.   
"Full emergency power to the engines," Jake said. "Ram the Blade ship."   
Again, Marco moved closer to Jeanne and she didn't move away, but I knew her reasons were different this time. She didn't have some crazed near-omnipotent being controlling her thoughts, she was seeking comfort in what she was sure were her final moments.   
Tobias landed on Jake's shoulder, also looking for comfort. I love you, Rachel, > he said so no one else could hear. No one, that is, except a cosmic eavesdropper like myself.   
Santorelli moved next to Jeanne, they were still friends, after all. And Menderash remained apart, muttering something that I knew to be the Andalite death ritual under his breath.   
The _Rachel's_ computer began its warnings, needlessly telling the crew that ramming the ship ahead was imminent unless they took action. When no course correction was made, it shut up. There was nothing to warn about now, there was no way the _Rachel_ could avoid the crash.   
And in a flash that lasted both a moment and an eternity, the _Rachel, _my namesake, rammed the Blade ship, instantaneously ending the lives of six very brave people, all the Yeerks aboard the Blade ship, and the monstrosity known as The One.   
May the universe never know a terror like it again.   
I watched sadly as I saw the timelines of Jake, Marco, Tobias, Menderash, Santorelli and Jeanne wink out of existance. But they were good people, I knew I'd see them again soon.   
"Ellimist, I'm ready now."   
The Ellimist appeared to me as only a warm light and gently led me to where I needed to be. 


End file.
